Riaan De Villiers
Riaan De Villiers Poems
Africa, my land of love and hate
I sometimes sit and stare at nothing in particular. I dream of things that might have been, I dream of things that was.
I miss the bush, the animals, and the landscape. I wonder, are these going to be there for my children's children to see? Will I ever walk in the sweet bushveld of the Limpopo province again?
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Africa, My Land Of Love And Hate
Africa, my land of love and hate
I sometimes sit and stare at nothing in particular. I dream of things that might have been, I dream of things that was.
I miss the bush, the animals, and the landscape. I wonder, are these going to be there for my children's children to see? Will I ever walk in the sweet bushveld of the Limpopo province again?
Africa, sweet land of my birth. It has shaped me into what I am. It has made me bitter and angry. How can an African not live in Africa, yet circumstances force us into action. My family is my refuge yet I am not content. So many questions so little answers.
Will I ever be happy again, as I was walking in the bush, hunting and living? I don't know. I suspect not, but a man must make do with the hand he is dealt with.
Whiteman with an African soul.
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